


Always Be My Baby

by itsmiz



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Louis, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Dom Harry, Established Relationship, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Spanking, Sub Louis, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmiz/pseuds/itsmiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis isn't looking forward to his birthday, and Harry makes him see that age truly is just a number.</p>
<p>Based on Louis' tweet: 22 is old :(</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Be My Baby

Harry had gotten up early the morning of December 23rd.  Well, relatively early.  Earlier than Louis, at least, who was still soundly sleeping to his left, looking every bit like a peaceful, scruffy angel.  He had been so worn out lately, and Harry was glad that he was appearing to get some good rest at the moment.  But then again, it was fairly predictable: they always slept better beside each other, especially when it was in their own bed. 

Harry stretched and looked outside the window while absently scratching his chest.  It was a cold, gray morning.  He smiled.  _London_.

There had been a lot going on in the past few days, and there was a lot still to be done in the days coming up.  Shooting a new music video…the Christmas holiday…tons of appearances…but most importantly, Louis’ birthday.  Every year, Harry liked to cook Louis something really special to celebrate his birthday because, more often than not, his birthday got lumped in with Christmas festivities, and that just wasn’t fair.

Tonight Harry was going to prepare one of Louis’ favorite meals for his birthday; he just had to stock up on groceries first.  Sure, Louis’ birthday was actually _tomorrow_ , but he and all the lads were throwing Louis a five-man party tomorrow night, so this just gave Harry an excuse to make Louis the center of attention for not just one day, but two.  Plus, this would be the first time in _forever_ that the other boys could spend Christmas Eve all together.

Harry could hardly wait. 

Louis already knew that Harry’d been planning to prepare dinner that night and needed to go to the supermarket, so Harry didn’t bother with leaving a note as he left the house.  After he showered and dressed, he crouched over a sleeping Louis, kissed his forehead, and whispered a soft, “Be back soon, love.”  As he turned to walk out the door, he saw Louis’ bare foot sticking out from the duvet and couldn’t resist tickling it a bit.  He smirked as his boyfriend shook his foot away from the sensation and continued to sleep.

Tonight was going to be great, and Harry left the house in a good mood.

* * *

 

The trip had taken longer than Harry anticipated. Any and every shop that had been open had been completed bombarded with last-minute holiday crowds, and then there was also the fact that Harry _might_ have stopped to mull over a few other little gifts here and there for Louis.  When he checked his phone and saw that Louis had been tweeting, Harry was excited that Louis was awake and rushed back to the house.  He sighed in relief as he finally opened the front door, welcoming the warmth and smell and feel of _home_.

Harry did a quick scan in front of him and noticed Louis on the sofa in the living room.  The older boy was wearing a baggy sweater and a pair of old sweatpants, leaning to the edge of the sofa and resting his head on the edge.  The television wasn’t on, and Louis wasn’t particularly _doing_ anything—not drinking tea, nor eating, nor on his phone… He was just staring into space.  Was he ill, Harry wondered? Hopefully he’d not be sick directly before his own birthday, but Louis did have a habit of catching colds at horrible times.  Harry deposited his shopping onto the countertop and quickly walked into the next room.

“Well, hello, sunshine,” Harry greeted Louis with a smile, ruffling his soft hair from beside him.  When Louis didn’t even look at him, he asked, “You feelin’ okay?”

When he got a grunt in response, Harry took a few steps to sit on the sofa with him.  He did a quick observation: his nose wasn’t red or runny, he wasn’t curled up in a blanket, he wasn’t drinking any tea… All the normal signs of him being ill were absent.  He had a tired look about his face, but that was it.

“You wanna go back to bed for a bit, babe?” Harry suggested. “You look a little tired.”

“Oh, thanks,” Louis replied sarcastically, “But, no, I’m perfectly well.  Just because I’m old now doesn’t mean I need to start taking afternoon naps, Harry.” He folded his legs up and wrapped his arms around his shins, still keeping his head rested on the arm of the sofa.  He looked positively childish.

Harry laughed but then quickly realized from Louis’ face that he was being completely serious. His smile momentarily faltered before he attempted to make a joke and force a laugh out of Louis.  “What’re you talking about, boo?  Or should I start calling you grandpa?” He playfully poked Louis’ stomach.

Louis’ sharp eyes bore into Harry’s soft ones, and Harry quickly gathered that the other boy wasn’t in the mood for joking.  Whenever Louis didn’t want to play around, Harry had learned to back off.  And whenever Louis didn’t want to play around, Harry had learned that something was wrong.

Harry transferred a quick apology in his returning gaze as he reached out his hands.  “You know I didn’t mean—”

Louis’ eyes left his.  “It’s fine.”

“Obviously, it’s not.”  When he received no reply, he continued to talk. “C’mon, Lou….What’s up? What happened?”

“Nothing’s happened.”  Louis shrugged his shoulders.  “Not yet, I guess.”

Harry scrutinized his boyfriend.  His tweet earlier had said “22 is old :( ” Harry hadn’t thought much of it at the time, had just read it and put his phone in his pocket with a smile.  Surely Louis was kidding.

But maybe not?

“You really think you’re old?”

“Twenty-two _is_ old,” Louis replied.  Harry forced himself not to smirk, as he could tell Louis wouldn’t appreciate it.  But… _really_.

Harry scooted closer to his boyfriend on the sofa and put his hand on the older boy’s leg.  “Love, twenty-two is _not_ old,” he consoled gently.

“Is too,” Louis argued petulantly.

“Is nooot,” Harry sing-songed, trying to put Louis back in a good mood.  Louis only furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms as he stared dejectedly into space.  Harry hated seeing him like this.  Sometimes cheering Louis up could be a struggle, and it made Harry feel horrible for not knowing immediately what to do. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he had thought. 

Harry tried again.  He began to move his hand up and down Louis’ leg.  “Lou, honestly…”

Harry had been anticipating spending time together with Louis to celebrate for almost a month now, certain that Louis’d be excited at any excuse to have a party and let loose after being away from home for so long.  Lou had been acting a bit off recently, sure, but—to be fair—all the boys were exhausted from all of the events they’d been doing lately.  Interviews, and award programs, and performances…not to mention 1D Day, which Harry was certain stressed Louis out even more because it honestly didn’t go as anybody had really planned it to.  The holidays in general were stressful, as well.

So, after all of that, when their schedule was _finally_ clear for a bit (or at least when they could be in England, at _home_ ), Harry wasn’t expecting Louis to be in a bad mood at all.  He wondered if Louis’d been anxiously awaiting his birthday all this time, just growing more and more depressed as the date grew nearer.  Harry felt bad for having not picked up on any of this before now.  This couldn’t just be some out-of-the-blue thing…Had this been festering inside Louis without Harry not even realizing?

“Whatever, Harry,” he grumbled as he swatted Harry’s hand away.  “Just wait ‘til _you’re_ twenty-two.  I already have wrinkles, for God’s sake.”

Harry chuckled incredulously.  “You do _not_ have wrinkles, Louis.”

Louis turned his head to stare expressionless at Harry.  “I see your eyesight has already begun to go, then.  Probably from being shacked up with me so much.  I’m practically elderly!”

Harry looked at his boyfriend’s stubborn face, knowing something else had to have been bothering him.  Was it because now there would be a three-year age gap between the two of them?  That happened every year, though, at least for the two months until Harry’s birthday came around.  Was Louis having some sort of early mid-life crisis?  What was so bad about the number twenty-two, anyway?  People were supposed to feel like this when they turned fifty—thirty, maybe—but twenty-two?  It made no sense.

Harry had already tried being optimistic, and he had tried being sympathetic.  Now he was going to try the ‘brutally honest’ tactic.  “Babe, you’re so completely off.  Ridiculously off.  You are turning twenty-two.  _Twenty-two_.  In the grand scheme of things, that’s really, really young.  Don’t you think?”

Louis bitterly muttered something under his breath.

“Hm?” Harry asked.

“Nothing.”

“Lou,” Harry whined, “Please don’t do that.  Just repeat yourself.”

“It’s not important.”

“Then why’d you say it?” Harry countered.  “What’d you say?”

“Nothing, really.”  Louis rubbed his temples with his fingers.  “I just don’t want to have this conversation right now.”

“That’s not fair.  I just want to know what you said.”

“Fine,” Louis sassed.  “I said, ‘Not as young as _she_ is.’  Happy?”

Harry frowned, at a loss for words.  He wasn’t expecting that response.  They didn’t really talk about their ‘girlfriends’ that often.  It was too painful.  But with _some_ new publicity stunt seemingly happening around Louis’ birthday every year, constantly pushing the dirty secrets under the rug made the festivities that much less enjoyable for Harry and Louis.   Everything was just a giant elephant in the room.  He didn’t know which was worse: discussing it at length to no avail or ignoring it like they had been.

Harry sighed, feeling Louis’ pain on the situation.  His hand found its way to back to Louis’ leg.  “Baby, you _know_ —”

“Yes, yes, I _know_.  I know what you’re going to say already,” Louis sighed.  “Doesn’t change anything.”

Harry opened his mouth but closed it shortly afterwards, truly not knowing how to respond.  They had this argument far too much, and he hated it. Every time the media linked him with some woman, it always made Louis jealous, and every time their PR team did “damage control” by flying Eleanor wherever the band were, Harry sulked, too.   It was neither boy’s fault, but it always seemed that they let their frustrations off on each other when things got too much for them to handle.  It was a dysfunctional cycle.

There was a tense moment of silence.  Harry’s hand felt like lead on Louis’ leg.  Louis wished that Harry would just _not_ care so much sometimes, that his heart wasn’t so goddamn large, that he would just go away and let him live out this stupid and embarrassing moment on his own.  He also wished that he himself weren’t such a asshole, but he couldn’t help it.  He scoffed at how much he hated himself at times like these, these stupid self-deprecating moods that wouldn’t fucking leave no matter what he did.

Louis felt Harry’s hand squeeze his leg.  “You know it’s you I want,” he whispered.  “Only you…always you...” He added, just for clarification, “And you’re not old.”

Harry’s words always did find a way into his chilled bones to warm him up, but he was doggedly avoiding being warmed up right now.  He hated himself even more for it.  Why wouldn’t he just let Harry take care of him?  He refused to let the tears he felt welling up behind his eyes fall from his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away.  This feeing sucked.

Louis shrugged his shoulders in response to Harry’s words. “We’ve been separated for weeks,” he muttered.  “Standing feet away from each other.  Separated.”

“I know.”  Harry came even closer to Louis and ran his fingers through his hair.  It had gotten so long, and Harry smiled softly at how fitting the nickname “Wolfie” was for him.  “I know, and there’s nothing I can do about it.  If I could, I would.  You know that.”  He leaned forward and kissed Louis’ cheekbone, close enough to Louis’ eyelashes that he could feel them by his lips.

Louis sighed.  “Yeah, well…”

He seemed to have no real point to make, and Harry took the opportunity to reason with him. “Well, we’re both here now—alone.  Together.  And this is how we’re spending it.”

Louis misunderstood Harry’s tone and jumped to the defensive again, shaking Harry’s hand out of his hair.  “Well, excuse the hell out of me, then.  Every day when I wake up my back feels like I’ve been sleeping on a wooden plank.  When I stand up, my knees crack, or my hips crack, or _some part of my fucking body_ cracks, and I do _too_ have fucking wrinkles, Harry, so don’t _lie_ to me!”  His breaths came heavier, and he closed his eyes.  “I’m not stupid.  I see the pictures of you, and I see the pictures of me, and I look old.  I look tired.  I look like shit.”

Harry shook his head vehemently.  “Baby, no—”

“God! Stop lying!  It’s clear as day.  In all those pictures in the magazines, online, wherever…they’re all of you and _her,_ and—” Louis had to stop.  He was going to cry, and he was determined not to.  He already sounded like an insecure mess as it was.

Harry rarely raised his voice, but when he did, it wasn’t pleasant.  His deep tenor was already intense, and when he shouted, it was worse. “I’m not lying!” Harry shouted.

_Great_ , thought Louis.  Now he’d started a fight.

“I’m not lying,” Harry repeated a few seconds later, much softer than before.  “You look excellent in literally every picture that’s taken of you. You’re just too hard on yourself, that’s all.”

Louis rolled his eyes, ignoring the compliment.  “She’s quite pretty, isn’t she?”

Harry wished Louis would just stop being so fixated on _her_.  He didn’t even like to say her name, and he knew Louis didn’t either.  It made it feel too intimate, like they were actually friends.  They hardly even knew each other.

“Well.  Yeah.  Yeah, I suppose.  That’s why they picked her, I reckon.”  Harry chuckled darkly, knowing it wasn’t the best thing to say at the moment, but hoping that Louis picked up on his mutual hatred of the situation.

Louis still wouldn’t say anything.  Harry was at a loss.  “You know it doesn’t mean a thing.  You know it.  You know that we’re seen together for half an hour—if that—and that there’s hundreds of photos taken in that time.  Then I’m right back home to you.  That’s all I meant—we’re finally alone now, and _this_ is how we’re spending it.  It’s pointless!”

Still no response from Louis.  “Lou, come _on_.  It’s your birthday!  We should be happy!  Celebrating!”  He lifted Louis’ arm to try to make him excited, but it just weightlessly flopped back down.  “You’re acting impossible, you know,” Harry finally said.  He had given up.

“ _Sor_ ry, if I’m bothering you, just piss off and go get more pictures taken with _her_ , why don’t you?”

Louis knew the comment made no sense.  She wasn’t even in the same country as Harry was anymore.   Louis knew the comment was out of order, as well.  Here Harry was trying to be a good boyfriend, and all Louis was succeeding at was pushing him away.

Harry felt like ripping his hair out but settled with merely running his fingers through it while he took a few deep breaths.  Nothing was going to come from this conversation, not when Louis was in such a state.  If Harry crowded him too much, he’d just get more defensive and they’d have a bigger argument on their hands.  Harry knew Louis didn’t mean what he said, but he couldn’t deny that it didn’t hurt.  Louis pushed Harry away like that only on rare occasions.  And those rare occasions were always when he wanted to have a strop, when he really needed to cry but didn’t want Harry to see.   Harry knew it, but it still didn’t make the situation any better.

“I’m going to give you some space now,” he said quietly as he stood up.  “I’ll just be upstairs tidying up.  Just…let me know when you—if you need anything.”

Louis imperceptibly nodded, looking grumpier if possible, and Harry thought he could already see the glossiness reach Lou’s eyes as he walked away from the sofa.  He felt utterly worthless and hated knowing that Louis would be crying when he reached the top of the stairs.  But if that’s what Louis wanted—to be alone for a bit—then Harry would try to give him some time to sort out his feelings.  Of course, he’d prefer to hold Louis when he was upset, but things didn’t always work like that when you had a boyfriend like Louis.

Downstairs, Louis found a blanket on the back of the sofa, wrapped it snuggly around himself, and dialed a number on his phone.

After a few rings, his mother answered.

* * *

 

It was fairly easy for Harry to channel some of his unease in cleaning up the place.  There was always something to be picked up or moved or cleaned, especially after the two of them had unpacked their suitcases (“unpacked” meaning dumping the contents on the floor if you were Louis).  Soon Harry had gotten completely immersed in cleaning, finding it therapeutic, and was currently washing the bits of toothpaste off the mirror, humming and not realizing that he was being watched.

Soon, Harry felt small hands on his waist.  He felt Louis’ head resting upon the upper part of his back, and Harry’s at-first-frightened face softened as he looked ahead into the mirror and saw Louis’ arms wrap around his front.

“What’s this?” Harry asked softly.

Louis mumbled unintelligibly into Harry’s shirt.

 “Hm?”

“I said sorry,” Louis said louder.

Harry put down his cleaning rag and tried to unlatch Louis from his waist.  Louis protested a little, but only half-heartedly.  He allowed Harry to steer him around so they were side-by-side, finding that he couldn’t meet Harry’s eyes.

“I feel dumb as shit,” Louis admitted, looking down at his bare feet.

Harry rubbed Louis’ arms up and down in what he hoped was a consoling way.  “Don’t.”

“No…I’m a knob.  I’m a shit person to you, and I’m sorry.”

Harry chuckled.  “No, you’re not.  We all get in bad moods from time to time.” He lifted Louis’ chin with his hand so he could meet his eyes, and bless him, they were all puffy and red.  “…You wanna talk about it?”

Louis shook his head.  “Honestly, no.  Maybe later.  I’d rather you just…forget what happened…and pretend that I wasn’t downstairs crying because my birthday’s tomorrow.”

Harry understood.  Louis must’ve feeling insecure as it was—being usually surrounded by all the boys, who were younger, and his siblings, who were younger.  Seeing Harry traipse in New York and London with a younger girl had probably only reinforced whatever ridiculous ideas he had about how he was growing old.

Harry would make sure to talk to Louis about all this before the end of the night, just to make sure there weren’t any lingering doubts running around inside his head, but not now.  He knew that Louis needed something else right now.  He didn’t need to talk about his feelings, and he didn’t need to be reminded about all of his responsibilities as being “the oldest” in the group.

Harry was more than happy to give Louis what he needed: to not have to think about his birthday or his age, to not have to think about _decisions_ and _choices_.  To have someone else make the decisions for _him_.  To have someone else take care of him.

Harry nodded. “Apology accepted, by the way,” he belatedly whispered, as if that was needed.  Louis would be forgiven no matter what; he was perfect to Harry.  He just was happy that Louis’ mood seemed to have come and gone relatively quickly.  Sometimes it wasn’t that easy.

Louis dropped his eyes, still feeling stupid, and literally fell forward into Harry’s arms.  He was so extremely lucky to have found someone like Harry, who was literally perfect in every way.  He loved everything about him.  Quietly, sounding like a child, he told him so.

“I love you too, baby,” Harry replied as he hugged Louis closer to him and kissed the top of his head.  They stayed like that a while, swaying lightly.  “So, you feelin’ better?”

Harry felt Louis nod into his chest.  “I do.  I…I needed that.”  After a few seconds he added, “I _am_ sorry, you know.”

“It’s okay, love.  I’m sorry about everything, too.  You know I wish everything could be different.”

“Yeah. Me too.” He sighed.  “Me too.” Louis reluctantly dislodged himself from Harry’s embrace and took a small step back. “God, I’ve wasted the whole damn day moping.”  He looked at himself in the mirror.  “Ugh.  I look disgusting.”

“Do not.”

Louis rolled his eyes.  “You’d say that if I literally rolled around in a pile of shit.”

“Probably,” Harry agreed, “but why don’t we wash up?  We’ve got a reservation for two down in the dining room in a few hours.”

Finally— _finally_ —that got a smile out of Louis.  “You’re an idiot,” he laughed.

Harry reached out and traced the area beside Louis’ eyes and above his cheekbone with his thumb.  “These…This right here,” Harry whispered, sounding astonished.  “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

Confusion was in Louis’ eyes.  Harry made no sense sometimes, looking at Louis like he was carved from stone or something.  “…Sometimes I can be, yes.  Often, in fact.   But what are you talking about?  Agreeing that you’re an idiot?  Cause I—”

“—You _do_ have wrinkles,” Harry interrupted, still staring at the area he was tracing with his right thumb.  “These little wrinkles by your eyes… When you smile, when you’re really happy, you get those wrinkles.  I love them more than anything.” After a moment, Harry’s eyes met Louis’ blue ones again, seeing them bright and shiny again.  This time, Harry was happy to see Lou’s eyes turn watery.  “And I’ll love them forever.”

“You sap,” Louis whispered brokenly.

“Look who’s crying,” Harry retorted. 

Louis moved his head around in search of someone else in the room.  “Not me, I don’t see anyone cryi—”

He was interrupted when Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips to Louis’, kissing him slowly…slowly.  Always slowly with Harry.  Harry’s right hand moved around to hold onto the back of Louis’ head while the left hand traveled across his shoulder, fingertips brushing his neck.  Louis’ mouth opened, and Harry slid his tongue into it.  Louis sucked on Harry’s tongue gently, making Harry groan into his mouth.  Feeding off each other’s enthusiasm, their kisses became more aggressive.  Suddenly the mood switched from soft to something a bit more raw, a bit more needy.  Both of them realized this as they broke the kiss and stared at each other, their breaths panting out.

“So,” Harry said, clearing his throat, trying to sound like he wasn’t as affected as he was. “About that shower…”

“Yeah,” Louis agreed breathlessly.

Harry smiled down at him.  This was going to be so much fun.

Harry raised his arms above his head and removed his jumper, dropping it carelessly to the floor. As he turned around and bent over to turn on the shower, Louis took in the ridges and pure definition of his muscles.  He continued to stare at Harry’s body until he had undressed completely, finding that he couldn’t look away.  Harry was so damn _hot_.  Despite crying not half an hour earlier, now Louis felt his dick starting to fatten in his sweatpants.  He was excited to realize that Harry was half-hard, too.

Harry looked over at Louis and smirked.  “You just gonna stand there?  I’d like to watch you, too, you know.”

Louis shook his head and grinned at being caught.  “Sorry, sorry, just admiring,” he replied before quickly ridding himself of his baggy clothing. “Um...”

Harry rose his eyebrows in question.

“Just wondering… Uh, do you want to do a bath instead?”

Harry grinned.  “Absolutely.”

Their tub was massive, perfect for two people.  Harry made the temperature perfect and even went out of the way to find and light candles.  When Louis gave him an exasperated look, Harry looked at him nonplussed before sinking down into the water. “What? They’re birthday candles.”

Louis could only smile fondly at him.

“C’mere,” Harry told Louis in a deep voice, opening his tattooed arms and signaling that Louis should back up in between his legs. Louis comfortably relaxed into the water and into Harry’s arms, sighing as Harry automatically began to rub his shoulders.  Louis lightly rested his hands on top of Harry’s knees on either side of his hips as Harry’s fingers applied perfect pressure to his muscles.

Louis involuntarily moaned.  “Feels good…”  He felt too stressed out to articulate lately, and he was glad to have Harry around.  Harry always knew what he needed to feel better. Harry’s massive hands were _perfect_ on Louis’ muscles.

“Yeah?” Harry asked, moving his fingers to massage the back of Louis’ neck.  At that, Louis moaned louder, not realizing how much he had needed this…this type of attention, this touch, this pleasure.  Harry.

“Mmm.” Louis moved his thumbs around on Harry’s knees, itching for some type of touch, when Harry’s hips twitched against his back.  Louis could feel Harry solid against the small of his back.  Louis turned his head to look up at Harry under long lashes.  Harry’s eyes looked dark, intense.  He had a stern look on his face, but he wasn’t mad or upset.  Louis knew that look very well by now.  It was one reserved only for him, the one he called Harry’s “creepy love stare.”   Harry wore it whenever he was in charge, and the effect on Louis was always instantaneous.  Louis shuddered.

Harry consistently kept Louis on his toes, and Louis loved that Harry was the only one that could do that and still keep up with _him_ at the same time.  One minute Harry was playful and cupcake-y, and the next, he was dominant and severe.  Louis turned his head back around and leaned back to rest against Harry’s chest.  Harry reached out to grab a washcloth and soap then lathered it up, resting his chin on Louis’ shoulder.

Harry started washing Louis’ tummy, one of his favorite places to touch.  It wasn’t as soft as it used to be, but it was still gorgeous.  He moved the washcloth to Louis’ chest, his arms, his sides, covering him in a slick layer of soap.  Louis closed his eyes.  He loved when Harry pampered him like this.  Why he was being so stubborn earlier, he had no clue.  Harry taking care of him was the absolute _best_.

Harry moved the washcloth slowly down to Louis’ legs.  He took a noticeably longer— _slower_ —time washing Louis’ thighs.  Louis could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he looked down and noticed he was fully hard, his full cock being an area Harry was carefully avoiding.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis groaned, “what are you doing?”

Harry continued slowly running the washcloth around Louis’ inner thighs.  “What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“Teasing me, you bloody bas—”

“ _Washing_ you,” Harry corrected.

“Yeah, well, my inner thighs aren’t even dirty—you don’t need to spend so much—”

“They’re not dirty _yet_ ,” Harry corrected.  “I’m pre-cleaning them.”

Louis was too aroused to comment on how stupid that was, and Harry continued at his slow pace.

“You seem to be enjoying it, anyway.”  Louis could feel the smirk on Harry’s face.

“Of course I do…your _hands_ ,” Louis muttered as he slightly nodded. “I mean, have you seen them at all?”

Harry dropped the cloth into the water and splayed both of his hands out in front of them.  The width was ridiculous.  “Yeah, every day, pretty much.”

Louis reached out ahead of him and lowered one of Harry’s hands to his throbbing dick.

Harry moved it immediately.  “Not yet.”

“What do you mean, not yet?  _Harry_ ,” Louis whined.

“Not til after the bath.”

Harry had spoken with finality, but Louis tried again.  “But it’s my birthday,” he said in a voice that he reserved when he wanted to get something out of Harry.

“It is,” Harry simply agreed.  “And you may be older, _Lewis_ , but I’m the one in charge here.”

Louis chuckled.

“Oh, is that funny to you?”

Lou’s grin dropped.  So Harry was being serious, then.  Louis’ eyes danced in excitement at what was to come.

“No,” he uttered, looking properly ashamed, but truthfully, on the inside he was ecstatic.  It was going to be one of _those_ nights.  Louis’ heart rate quickened in anticipation; he absolutely _loved_ when Harry was like this.  And, really, he needed it.  He needed to let go of his insecurities and his inhibitions and just let Harry do with him what he willed.  As quick as a switch, his brain turned over into submissive mode.  Well, semi-submissive mode.  He _was_ Louis, after all.

Louis wiggled his ass against Harry and turned his head to whisper in his ear.  “I seem to be all clean now.”

“Stop being so impatient,” Harry chided, yet Louis saw the glint in his eyes that told him he was amused at Louis’ excitement.

Harry tapped his shoulder.  “Stand up.  Let’s rinse off.”

Louis sprung up so fast out of the water that it splashed over the edge.  Harry remained still for a moment, staring at Louis’ bare backside with the same awe he always did when Louis was naked before him.  Harry awkwardly stood up, all lithe limbs, and switched on the shower as Louis was pulling the stopper out.  Louis quickly rinsed off and then stood still as if to say “Okay, let’s get out!” but Harry just took the same washcloth he’d used on Louis and took his time washing his own body.  Louis could do nothing but watch, and Harry smirked.  He didn’t even need to wash himself—he just showered hours ago—but watching Louis squirm was one of his favorite things.

They’d both barely dried off when Louis was pushed onto the bed.  _Finally_.  Harry stood on the floor at the edge of the bed and stared down at Louis.  Every part of his body looked so enticing; he didn’t know where he wanted to start.

Harry lifted Louis’ legs to rest on his shoulders and kept eye contact as he languidly kissed his ankle, his calf.  Louis let his eyes drop to both of their cocks—both harder and fuller than he could ever remember seeing. Harry was the perfect height for this position—both of their cocks touched, and Louis’ twitched in excitement.  He wished Harry would touch him there.

“Look at me,” Harry immediately hissed.  Louis looked up.  Knowing he probably wasn’t allowed to touch Harry—or even himself—he gripped the bed sheets to try to channel some of the arousal he was feeling.

Harry kissed his ankle again, right beside his tattoo, before kissing his way up his foot and to his toes, licking and sucking them in his mouth.  Louis wanted to protest at the oddness, but truly, it felt too good to object and only reminded him of Harry’s mouth sucking something else.  Harry was absolutely filthy about it, keeping eye-contact with Louis the entire time, and Louis had to close his eyes at the intensity.

Louis felt Harry’s mouth leave him.  “You know the rules, Louis.”

Louis’ eyes opened immediately and re-met Harry’s.  “Sorry, sorry,” he gasped out.

Finally, Harry’s hand reached down to grab ahold of both himself and Louis, rubbing softly up and down while just _barely_ thrusting his hips.  Louis shamefully rolled his hips.  When he didn’t get a negative response from Harry, he did it again, careful to not let himself get too carried away.  He wished Harry would come forward to kiss him, but all he did with his mouth was bite his own lip while staring down at Louis.

Harry’s voice was low and deep.  “You feel how hard my cock is for you, baby?”

Louis nodded, his breath coming out in heaves.  Harry thrust harder, making Louis roll his eyes into the back of his head.  “Hm?” he pressed.

“Yeah,” Louis moaned, “yes, yes.” After a few moments of mutual moaning, Louis said unnecessarily, “I’m so hard, too…”

“You’re so gorgeous,” Harry continued whispering.  “So perfect, so fucking sexy.”

“Harry, please, you’ve gotta…” Louis squeezed his eyes shut despite himself.  “ _Touch_ me.”

“I am touching you,” Harry whispered, then spat out more forcefully, “ _Open your eyes_.  I won’t be nice about it next time.”

Louis whined and reopened his eyes to look at Harry in desperation.

“What?” Harry taunted.  “This doesn’t feel good?”  He tightened his grip on both of their cocks and squeezed the tips.  They had both gotten gooey with pre-cum, and Harry noticed a steady bead of moisture at Louis’ tip no matter how many times he spread it out with his thumb.

Louis shook his head, and Harry saw him grab fistfuls of the blanket underneath him.  “Feels good, feels good,” Louis corrected. “I just… _more_ ,” he babbled.  “ _In_ me…”

The way that Louis writhed and moaned against him, pleading for _more_ , had Harry overcome with lust, with love, for lube. He leaned forward then, thankful for both his and Louis’ flexibility as he rested himself on top of Louis with Louis’ feet on his shoulders.

He pressed his lips to Louis’ as he lowered his hand under Louis’ leg to touch his hole.  Louis’ chest rose and fell rapidly, his heart pounding against his chest, already overcome at just the slightest touch.  He threw his arm across the mattress to open up the nightstand drawer on Harry’s side of the bed. His eyes were closed, his mouth open in a soundless moan as Harry continued to grind against him, to kiss along his jaw, his neck, as he fumbled for the feel of the bottle.  He gripped it tightly and threw it on the bed, finally opening his eyes and panting up at Harry.

“Harry, please,” he whispered.  “Please, please, it’s been so long…”

Harry leaned forward to lick and suck at Louis’ neck.  Reaching his ear, he whispered, “It’s been a week, Lou.” He slicked his fingers up and returned them to trace around Louis’ tight hole, begging to be filled.  “Just can’t get enough, though, can you?”

At these words, Louis felt Harry’s index finger enter him, and he shook his head as his eyelids closed yet again, just for a second before they opened again and turned to look at Harry.  Harry rewarded him by adding a second finger in slowly, and soon, Louis gripped Harry’s neck tightly and moaned, nudging his hips downwards to feel more of Harry inside him.  Harry slightly backed away, took both of Louis’ wrists in his free hand and pushed them above his head in a strong hold.

“Your hands stay here.”

Harry descended again to continue licking and sucking Louis’ neck while attentively watching his face.  He moved his fingers in and out of Louis in a way he knew drove Louis crazy—not enough to give him what he was desperate for, but still pleasurable.   So when Louis’ face changed slightly, Harry took notice.  All it took was a small look of discomfort from Louis, and Harry knew what was wrong, though Louis hardly ever voiced it.  Harry dropped Louis’ legs and brought them around his waist.  Louis loosely hooked them together behind Harry’s back and kept his unrestrained hands above his head the entire time.

Harry noticed and praised Louis. “You’re such a good boy, Lou.”  The smile on Louis’ face melted Harry’s heart and simultaneously sent more blood to his cock.  Louis looked like he was desperately trying to keep from erratically moving on Harry’s fingers, torn between chasing pleasure and being good.  The fingers alone weren’t giving him enough, and Harry knew it.

“I am?”

“ _So_ good, baby,” Harry answered.  “So good.”

Harry eventually removed his fingers from Louis and repositioned him so he was at the very end of the mattress.  He watched Louis’ hole clench on nothing before meeting his eyes and taking in his flushed face.  “You want to be filled so bad, I know it,” Harry told him.

Louis bit his lip.  “Yeah…”

Both of Harry’s hands pushed Louis’ legs wide and apart from the underside of his knees, and Louis felt the air of the room on his exposed hole.  He could hardly contain himself as he kept his eyes on Harry, always on Harry, even if Harry was taking forever admiring his ass.

Louis couldn’t help the groan that left his lips, and Harry slightly smiled.  He opened Louis’ legs up even wider before taking a moment to lube his own cock up, then inched towards Louis once he was done.  Louis prepared himself for the breach, but of course Harry took his time.  When Louis was expecting to be stretched full, all he felt was Harry tracing his rim with the head of his cock.  Harry’s hair had begun to fall in his face as he looked down at what he was doing, and he brushed it back with his fingers.

Louis was sure that he was probably meant to be patient, but he couldn’t help how greedy he felt.  He wanted Harry’s cock, he wanted to be split in two by it.  He could barely move his body, but he shifted his hips around just enough to let Harry know he would die if he didn’t get his cock _now_.

“Give me your hands,” Harry ordered.  Louis lowered them to his sides, his shoulders crying out in relief.  “ _Give me your hands_ ,” Harry repeated, and Louis reached them out.  Harry guided them around Louis’ hips and onto his ass cheeks and said, “Hold yourself open.”

Louis looked at Harry in confusion; he was rarely allowed to touch himself like this when they were doing this type of thing.  He moved his hands, though, and used his fingers to spread himself open as wide as he could, looking to Harry for approval.  Harry wordlessly grabbed the bottle of lube, opened it, and poured it liberally all over Louis.  Louis felt himself getting stickier and messy, felt the liquid enter him, slide down his crack, and coat his inner thighs.

“Oh, my fucking god,” Louis choked out at the sensation.  Harry traced around the mess with his index finger like he had all the patience in the world.

“Arms back up,” he told Louis.  Louis immediately followed command.

“Okay, arms up,” Louis gasped out.  “Now please, _please_ …”

“God, the noises you make…” Harry said more to himself than to Louis.  “I think you’ve earned it,” Harry added a moment later, while at the same time thrusting forward sharply and filling Louis up completely.  Louis rolled his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, consequences be damned.  Harry was so fucking huge, and he had only prepped him enough to be slightly loosened.  His tight heat welcomed Harry gladly, but he needed a minute to get used to the pinch.

Luckily, Harry was overwhelmed himself and had to stay still to regain control.  His hands gripped Louis’ hips tightly, and he slowly backed almost all the way out of Louis only to slam back in.  He did this a few times, loving each noise he pushed out of Lou’s mouth, until he finally picked up a rhythm and steadily fucked Louis.

Filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, little “uh, uh, uh’s” from Louis, Harry’s exerted breathing.  Minutes ago, both of the boys were clean, but now they were all sweaty and wet.  Harry was sure to leave bruises on Louis’ hips, and the thought of marking him made his hips snap forward harder until he was jabbing Louis’ prostate with each thrust.

“Oh, my _god_ , Harry,” Louis moaned, “Oh, my god, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come...”

Harry waited to hear the question from Louis, the permission to orgasm.  Louis never uttered the words.

Harry watched as every muscle in Louis’ body clenched, and he continued to unrelentingly pound into his ass, daring Louis to come without first asking if he could.  Louis squeezed his eyes shut, arched his back, and in the most perfect display of ecstasy he brokenly moaned, “I’m coming, I’m coming… _Harry_!”

Harry fucked him through his orgasm and watched as strand after strand of cum erupted from Louis’ cock.  He only slowed down when he felt Louis clench down on him, oversensitive.  Louis opened his eyes a few seconds later, shuddering and gasping for breath.  He looked down to the cum on his stomach, then innocently back up at Harry.  He realized too late that he hadn’t asked permission to cum, and he didn’t know if Harry was in a mood to reinforce that rule.

“You didn’t ask to do that,” Harry commented, circling his hips.  So _yeah_ , Harry was reinforcing that rule.

Louis nodded, eyes wide and pupils blown wide, unable to articulate anything, unable to think anything.  It had felt too good…he couldn’t help it…he had tried to warn him…

Harry stopped his movements, staring at the mess on Louis’ stomach.  “Turn around,” Harry ordered.

Truly, he was so floaty that he didn’t think he could even muster up the strength to do as Harry requested, and he wasn’t even thinking of what he was doing as he whispered, “Make me.”  He had wanted to seem submissive—he wanted Harry to do it for him because he _couldn’t_.  Electricity was still running through his body from his orgasm; he wasn’t thinking that his words were defiant.

Harry’s eyes narrowed at the dare, and he grabbed Louis’ mouth in one hand as he used the other to pull his wet cock out of Louis.  “You are such a brat,” he said as he roughly squeezed his mouth. He grabbed ahold of Louis’ hips to roll him over onto his elbows with his ass in the air, reveling in the way his pliant body moved just where he wanted it to.  Louis’ head automatically leaned forward to rest on his folded arms, and Harry’s body covered his.

“You were so good, baby…“ Harry whispered into his ear.  “Then you come all over yourself without even asking,” Harry said as he smeared his hand over the stickiness covering Louis’ stomach, “and now you want to be a brat.”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Harry heard Louis whimper. Harry’s cum-covered fingers shoved their way into Louis’ mouth.  Loving the feeling of something in his mouth, Louis wrapped his tongue around Harry’s fingers and sucked every bit off.  He could feel Harry rock-hard against his ass, and he wiggled his hips a bit.

“That what you want?” Harry asked.  “Want me back inside you?”

“Ugh,” Louis sounded out, his mouth shoved full of fingers, unable to speak.  Harry quickly removed his hand from Louis’ lips, moved aside, and smacked Louis’ ass roughly.

Not anticipating the sting, Louis cried out and clenched his muscles.  He dropped his knees to lower himself on his haunches, not able to hold himself up at all.  All he could do was keep his ass sticking out and take his punishment, even though he couldn’t stop himself from thrashing about.

They had done this enough times for Harry to know that Louis enjoyed it, so Harry held Louis down and slapped the same spot again.  And again. And again, too many times to count.  He should’ve made Louis count for him, but he had been enjoying each grunt Louis had been emitting with each slap to even think about making Louis keep track.  He rubbed his palm over the deep red mark he left and began talking to Louis again.

“Why did I just do that, Louis?”

Louis had been resting his head on the mattress with tear-ridden squeezed-shut eyes.  He opened his mouth and eyes at the same time, looking confused and in trouble.

Harry repeated himself.  “Why did I just smack your ass, baby?”

Louis felt better at being called “baby” and mumbled into the sheets. “Because I was bad.”

“Because you were bad,” Harry agreed, tracing along Lou’s spine.  “How were you bad?”

“I-I came all over myself,” Louis sniffed, “and I didn’t ask you if I could.”

“Exactly right, baby.  Why is that bad?”

“Be-because,” Louis whispered, trying to remember what one of their most important rules was.  “Because my orgasms aren’t mine.  They’re yours.”

Harry smiled and rubbed Louis’ ass lightly.  “What else?”

Louis’ bright eyes moved around, lost by what Harry was asking.

“How else were you bad?”

Louis began to cry.  “I didn’t _mean_ to,” he whined.

“That’s not an answer.”

Louis’ voice softened.  “Because I told you what to do,” Louis whispered.

“Mm,” Harry agreed noncommittally.  “What were you thinking?”

“I just wanted you to do it for me, that’s all,” Louis sniffed.  “I’m _sorry_.”

“Next time, you ask.  You ask me,” Harry ordered.  “And even then, I’ll still do what I want to do.  You need to listen and follow directions.  Are you going to listen to me now?”

Louis vigorously nodded his head. “Yes, yes.”

“We’ll see,” Harry said. “Up on your hands and knees.”

Louis scrambled to find the strength to raise his body but enthusiastically took position.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Harry told him, “I’m going to fuck you til you’re sore.”  Louis’ hole was already sore, and he shivered at Harry’s words.  “You’ll feel it for weeks,” Harry continued, “and every time you _move_ you’ll think of me and my cock.”

Louis dropped his head between his shoulders and gripped the sheets.  He wasn’t sure if he was moaning at Harry’s words or if it was just the buzzing in his head.

Harry pushed himself back into Louis’ red and already-fucked hole.  He fucked Louis until he began crying again.  He fucked Louis loudly, whispering filthy things down to Louis’ back as he watched his cock rhythmically tear into Louis.  He fucked away any coherent thought left in Louis’ mind until Louis was making illogical noises into the room.  Harry was overcome with adoration for this boy.  Quickly, he was losing control.

He leaned forward over Louis and put his hands on top of his, entwining their fingers as he rammed into Lou’s ass.  They were both slick with sweat and panting.  Louis turned his head to Harry and opened his mouth in question.  Harry immediately pushed his tongue inside and groaned as Louis began sucking it.  Both of them were frantic, making needy noises into each other’s mouths.

“It’s coming,” Louis gasped.  “Harry, can I—?”

Harry was seconds away from busting himself, so he gritted out, “Yeah, boo, go on,” as he unevenly thrust into Louis and bit down on his lower lip.  Louis’ high-pitched moans were ringing through Harry’s head as he felt his stomach tighten and his balls constrict.

“Fuuuck,” Harry groaned, and he emptied himself into Louis’ body, flopping down sloppily on top of him as Louis dropped to the mattress panting.  They lay like that for a little before Harry rolled off of Louis carefully, scooping the smaller boy up into his arms to spoon. The bed was positively drenched with sweat and Louis’ cum, and the sheets had been torn and moved around somehow.  Neither boy cared.

Harry put his hand on top of Louis’ heart and felt the strong, rapid beating beneath his palm.  As both of their breaths evened out, he pulled out of Louis.  A small noise came from the older boy’s mouth as he immediately felt warm liquid leave him, but Harry just wrapped him back up into his arms, finding and pulling the blanket over both of them.

Harry closed his eyes when he thought Louis was asleep, but he was surprised to find Louis moving.  Louis looked back at Harry, his eyes huge and confused and _trusting_ , and Harry softly smiled.

“Hazza,” he mumbled.

Harry caressed his face with his index finger as Lou’s eyes slipped close.  “Yeah, boo?”

“That…was.”

Harry chuckled.  “Good?” Harry finished.  “You okay?”

Louis didn’t think Harry understood just how _okay_ he was.  “So good. Insane.”

“Go to sleep, love.  I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

* * *

 

Harry didn’t lie.  Louis woke up warm and comfortable in Harry’s arms.  Louis smiled as he took in Harry’s sleep face: dead-to-the-world eyes, open mouth, loud breathing.  Apparently Louis’ chuckling woke Harry up.

“Whatime’sit?” Harry asked in his deep, incredibly sexy morning voice.

“Err, six? I dunno.” Louis answered.

“Man, we slept so long,” Harry complained as he rubbed his eyes but made no move to get up.

“Yeah,” Louis agreed, stretching against Harry, “You wore me out.”

Harry sat up, instantly worried.  “Are you okay?  Did I hurt you?”

“Whoa, chill out.  Just sore, but okay.  You never hurt me, Haz.” Louis grinned, and his happiness reached his eyes.  Harry reveled at seeing those wrinkles again.

They showered together again and spent the night cooking.  Louis wanted to thank Harry for everything today, and the only way he really could get his point across was to try to help Harry with the meal.

“Honestly, Lou, it’s your _birthday_ , stop trying to help.”

Louis wordlessly dipped a spoon in the mashed potatoes and flung them at Harry, cackling when they landed right in Harry’s hair.  “Make me,” he cheekily said as he stuck out his tongue.  Harry’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t respond.  Louis grinned.

* * *

 

The next night was the most fun they’d had in a long time.  There was a lot of alcohol, and a lot of laughter, and a lot of XBox. 

“Cheers, Louis,” Harry said, holding up his drink, “You’re not getting older, you’re getting better!”

“That’s such a _you_ thing to say,” Louis responded, but clinked their glasses together anyway.

By the end of the night, the boys had turned on music and were running around the house dancing horribly.  Louis approached Harry, inhibitions gone, and backed his ass into his crotch.  Circling his hips around, his movements were suspiciously similarly to the night before. 

Harry put his hands on Louis’ hips, moving one around to trace the zip of his jeans.  “Aren’t you a little too _old_ to be moving like that?” Harry whispered down into his ear.

“Oh shut it.  I _am_ old compared to you.”

"Whatever, _baby_."

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know some (a lot) of this is inaccurate, but it's fiction, so I hope you liked it.


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